In Death I Become.


c5c249bb69a8254b65a865a51cb1c81bDear Death,

I am not sure if you remember of my existence. I know not if you are to seek me soon either. But I am well aware of you.

This world is a strange place. It portrays you to be dark and gloomy. Some fear you, some shun you while some others are in a hurry to meet you. Some are at war to thwart your advances with all their life’s savings. But I, I believe you are beautiful.

My doctor dad once told me. “What is more beautiful than a force that can, in a single breath, put physical pain to rest?” To me, you revealed your prowess of putting even the wearying turbulence of the mind to rest.

In you, I found a companion. Over time, you grew to be a friend. I often spoke to you, just like how I speak to God. Have you heard me from up there? Yes, I believe you too reside up there like Him, descending upon us only when there’s a soul waiting to bid farewell.

Make an exception for me. I would love to have dinner with you some day. For once it would be a pleasant tête-à-tête; me telling you about my day, and you telling me about yours. It would be fun and light hearted, nothing like the memories we carry. Maybe I will finally make it up to you for all my sad monologues punctuated with the tears rolling down my cheeks. I’m sorry, it must have been really awkward for you.

Is that why you were always invisible? Despite which I knew you were so near. The cold heavy air reeked of your omnipotence. You were right there and I just needed to figure out a way to reach you. Oh! The many ways I imagined I could. Neither did I have the guts to make the move, nor could I get rid of the nagging need to do so.  

Sometimes you visited me during the day, and sometimes during the night. But you always had the uncanny ability to sense it when I needed you. It helped that you were always alone. You should know that your undivided attention kept me sane.

Your visits turned frequent, and I became so used to having you around. It felt like we were seamless; my dark thoughts lost in your dark demeanor. My melancholy camouflaged by yours. The more I disappeared in you, the closer I got to myself.

Your cold and persistent silence in refusing to take me along pushed me to another tomorrow. My haste in wanting to have you crumbled under the might of your patience. You forced me to live with myself, to understand and accept myself. And for this, I shall forever be grateful to you.

I thank you for the time you took off from your busy routine just for me. I like to believe that during our stolen moments, not a single soul passed away from this world. Maybe that’s why you visited me, to take a break from your routine, to disrupt the monotony of your tough job.

Being in the business of picking up souls is not so easy. I salute you for the service. Your dedication taught me a thing or two about life; Do what you must, never look back, never look forward and never worry about what the others have to say. This made me brave, strong and self-oriented enough to survive.

You removed my instability, helping me accept the rights and the wrongs of the world. You helped me see the beauty of both the light and the shadows of life. Your monochrome presence added colour to my thoughts. Your disruptive presence made me appreciate the uninterrupted memories I was fortunate to make thus far. You prepared me to let go, of the anxiety, of the fear, of the insecurities, of all the times I put someone else ahead of me and of, above all, the many troubling questions about existence, and eventually of you even.

All along you were my teacher, of being truly alive. And now I trust you enough to wait for my turn. We shall meet again, only when it’s truly meant to be.

Dedicated to the all the brave ones pushing to live another day despite the depressed self. Please don’t deprive the world of your beauty, love, strength and creativity. Hang in there and be the best you can. For all you know, you could be the change mankind has been waiting for all along.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s